


Not Like Him

by swagnushammersmith



Category: Fables - Willingham, The Wolf Among Us
Genre: Comfort, Emetophobia, F/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 17:32:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3659055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swagnushammersmith/pseuds/swagnushammersmith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fandom: The Wolf Among Us/Fables<br/>Pairing: Snowby<br/>Characters: Snow White, Bigby Wolf, Ichabod Crane [mentioned]<br/>Word Count: 2891<br/>Additional Notes: Written for Snowby Week. Prompt given by anon: Snow comforting Bigby after a hard day. Warnings: emetephobia, very descriptive panic attack inside an elevator. Beta’d by cloudchaser2000</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Like Him

There are some things that are better left forgotten. There are some things that we think we've forgotten, but instead end up repressed in the depths of our minds only to spring out at the worst possible times.

It was a breezy night in Fabletown. People buried themselves a bit further into their coats as they tried walking to their destinations; some walking back home from work, some trying to run a last errand or two, others going on outings while regretting their choice of dress and cursing the cold night ahead of them. Their friends would reassure them that as soon as they made it inside, it would be warmer - a lot warmer - and they would have a cab waiting for them on the way out.

Meanwhile, there was Bigby Wolf, who was currently sitting alone in the backseat of a cab, on his way back to the Woodlands from a party celebrating Beauty and Beast's anniversary. They went all out, as usual, with lavish festivities. Nobody, not even the couple in question themselves could remember how many years it’s been since they’d wed. Maybe that was a sign that things were going good for Beauty and Beast: because they seemed so happy that it really didn't matter how long ago it was at this point. Surely once they have another marital debacle, one of them would be able to get an exact number to try to prove a point. But for the moment, everything seemed to be alright.

Bigby noted that there were a lot of other Fables at this particular celebration tonight, dressed as well as they would have at Remembrance Day. He could see Prince Charming hitting on the bartender, trying to convince her to give him another free drink. Cinderella sat across from Briar Rose as she shared stories from her latest mission, and hilarious encounters at her shoe store. Bigby eventually found Snow across the room, mostly keeping to herself and her drink, but conversing amicably with anyone who wanted to have a chat with her.

He wished that he and Snow could have gone together, as a couple, but ever since Snow had reprimanded him for tricking her into a date at the Remembrance Day celebration, he didn't want to think about attempting to ask her out any time soon.

Bigby didn't know why, but ever since he first laid eyes on Snow, he really liked her a lot, and didn't want her to get the wrong idea of him.

It was funny. The Big Bad Wolf having an innocent crush on someone.

The cab dropped him off at the gated entrance of the Woodlands. Bigby walked through the entrance, past Grimble (who was once again, asleep), and to the elevator. He lit a cigarette while he waited for the “ding” to signal that his ride had arrived.

His mind wandered off back to Snow, wondering if she was doing okay that night. Bigby knew that Snow would be able to hold her own if she was having a rough patch, but he was afraid that she'd never be able to process her emotions properly. Or that she stopped trying ever since she learned that she shouldn't put so much trust into people. He couldn't blame her, because after living with the dwarves, and after Prince Charming, Bigby knew that Snow had to start taking care of herself.

“I've been doing it for centuries.”

Why had that memory of those words come out into the front of his mind, Bigby did not know. But with it came a flood of other memories.

The murders of the girls at the Pudding N' Pie. Nearly getting shattered to pieces by Bloody Mary. Nerissa leading him to the Open Arms Hotel. Finding Beauty working at the Open Arms. Beast roughing him up and thrashing him into the locked door of the room he had to investigate. Discovering that blood-soaked bed covered in flowers. Uncovering the photos of Ichabod Crane playing out his sick sex fantasies with Snow White. Having to swallow the utter disgust on his tongue as he searched after Snow in desperation, hoping to every deity out there that she would be okay.

Bigby felt the same fear as he did all those years ago shaking up his body once again. Crane...

Crane had the same kind of feelings about Snow that Bigby did, only... more perverse. Though at least, Bigby would have liked to believe that. He didn't want to think that he was like Ichabod Crane in any way.

But what if he was? What if his feelings about Snow would evolve into some sick sort of thing like what Crane was doing? What if he found himself writing a pre-emptive note telling Snow that whatever he ended up doing to her, it was because he loved her? What if Bigby started embezzling from Fabletown just to play out a fantasy with what he considered to be the perfect image of Snow White? Only instead of Snow it was with a glamoured-up prostitute? Because when would Snow ever give Bigby the time of day like that? She made it clear to him. She wasn't interested. He wasn't worth her time.

Bigby began to hyperventilate. Laughable considering he was the son of the North Fucking Wind and his lungs were unstoppable. But not even Bigby Wolf's lungs could do anything about an impending panic attack. The elevator seemed a lot smaller and he couldn't remember exactly where he was. The elevator ride was only for two floors but it suddenly felt like twenty-two.

Crane... Crane... Fucking Crane. Bigby wanted to be nothing like him. Especially... now with him being dead at …….with him dead at Bigby's hand. Oh god.

The fact that they had that one thing in common made him want to retch. He knew that he had gained more self control than Crane ever had over the years, but by God, he's a Fable - he could live forever for all he knew. He could throw his discipline out the window in the next decade, because why have that when you're the “Big Bad Wolf,” for crying out loud? He really didn't want that to happen, he swore to himself that it would NEVER happen. “You're only fucking saying that now because you just thought of it, you fucking asshole!” he yelled at himself.

He felt his dinner start to come up. Shit.

The ding of the elevator caught Bigby by surprise. He let out a startled yelp as he looked up at the doors opening up, allowing him to walk free.

“That's right.... I was just on my way to my.... oh Jesus Christ,” he cursed as he realized he was in the goddamn fetal position inside the elevator. Not exactly a high point for him. He pulled himself up, and remembered that his cigarette was still between his fingers. He decided to just step on it to put it out because right about now, he was feeling ready to vomit in a few seconds.

Bigby bolted down the hallway to his apartment, number 204 with his coat tails fluttering behind him. He searched for his keys in every one of his pockets in a panic before opening his door and throwing them onto the table. He ran for the bathroom so that he could finally hurl in peace.

As soon as Bigby saw his toilet, he held nothing back as the vomit came up, narrowly missing the toilet bowl before completely letting go of his self control.

Letting go of his self control. Just like Crane did. If the fucker had any to begin with.

The thought brought on the first major wave of vomit; oh how it burned his throat as it came up.

“FUCK!” he screamed, the contained echoes bouncing off the toilet bowl. More vomit came up as he processed all the thoughts that just came to him in the elevator.

The sick fucker that Crane was. Vomit.

What Bigby could imagine turning into, being like that sick fucker. Vomit.

Endangering Snow, hurting her. Vomit.

Fabletown calling for his death. Vomit.

Getting thrown down the Witching Well without a thought after what he could possibly do. Vomit.

…How fucking pathetic was he. Bigby tried controlling his breathing as his stomach began to settle for the moment. A few painful dry heaves punched him in the stomach as he continued to grasp the toilet.

He was sticky, his clothes were restricting. He noticed that sweat covered his forehead and his armpits. Weird, considering that it was a cold night, there was no way he could have been able to sweat this much. He threw off his jacket and his shirt as he felt another wave of hurling come up. Oh God, when would it end already?

Bigby didn't know how long he leaned over his toilet. It felt like too much time to dedicate to vomiting as a result of a panic that he was still trying to come down from. But finally- dear God FINALLY- he could pull himself up and breathe more even breaths. His head was still racing with the list of god awful “What ifs?” but he could at least start sorting those thoughts out.

The sheriff cleaned his face of the spit, sweat, and drops of vomit with a cold washcloth. What the fuck just happened? Never in his life did he fall into an episode like that. What was it, and why did it start all because he thought of Crane?

Bigby walked out to his living room to open a window and cool off some more. He didn't expect to look up and find Snow standing by his door. He was a bit startled to see her there, to say the least.

"Snow!" he said. "How did you get in my apartment?"

“Uhh,” she started, looking down at the floor, “You left your door open. Are you okay, Bigby?”

“Of course I’m okay, Snow, why would you think I’m not okay?” Bigby replied.

Worry drew itself across Snow’s face. “I was on my way to the Business Office to drop off a few things when I heard you screaming down the hallway. It sounded like you were in pain. Bigby…. are you okay?”

“Snow, I--” Bigby didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to admit that he just was vomiting because of ugly past memories, or that just a couple of minutes ago, he was in the fetal position inside the elevator feeling like he was gonna die, or that all of this started because a certain someone came across his mind. Especially not to Snow; he didn’t want her to think he was weak. He scratched the back of his head as he searched for an answer to give to her.

But before he could say anything, Snow spoke up instead. "Bigby, go sit down."

“Uh, Snow, I-”

“Just sit down, Bigby,” she said as she turned away to close Bigby’s door that was still ajar. Bigby obeyed and sat in his chair as he watched Snow walk in to his kitchen. He heard the faucet run, along with the cracking of an ice tray, and before long, Snow came out with a glass of water. “Here, you probably need some fluids.”

Bigby accepted the water and took a sip as Snow pulled up another chair in front of him. “Thanks, Snow. I didn’t know I needed that.”

“Not a problem, Bigby,” she said as she sat down, too. “So, how did you like the anniversary party tonight?”

Bigby chuckled. “I guess it was okay. Nothing that wasn’t expected coming from Beauty and Beast.” At least she wasn’t asking him about his screams of agony.

“Yeah, same for me,” Snow said, “I saw that you left pretty early, even before they brought out the dessert. Were you feeling sick?”

Well then. Bigby pulled out his cigarettes from his pocket and lit one up, feeling more okay to smoke again. “I mean,” he said before taking a big puff of the cancer stick, “I was feeling fine, I just felt tired and bored to be honest.”

Snow looked at Bigby, but avoided looking directly into his eyes. “Well, then… what was that I heard just now?”

Bigby took another inhale from his cigarette and exhaled a gust of smoke. “You have to promise not to make fun of me or hate me because of what I’m about to say.”

“Bigby, I’m worried about you, why would I do that?”

“I just--” Bigby rubbed his forehead and sighed. “I was, having some sort of fit. I don’t know why, but I was in the elevator and I…. thought of Crane all those years ago. How he-- how he thought of you and what he did….” Another small breath of smoke came out of his nose as he looked away from Snow. “And then next thing I know, I- I dunno…. time just slowed down and I felt like I was gonna die. As soon as I got out of the elevator, I had to throw up, really bad. I know it sounds silly, Snow, but I was terrified, and…”

Bigby felt Snow put her hand on his cheek, which made him look back at her. The cool touch of her fingers comforted him. Snow’s sincere gaze locked with Bigby’s look of relief. “I think you were having a panic attack, Bigby.”

“A… panic attack?” Bigby asked as he took another sip of his water.

“Yes, what you described sounds just like a panic attack.” Snow leaned in some more, and dropped her hand to Bigby’s shoulder, not caring that it was a little sweaty still. “They come out of nowhere for the stupidest reasons, and you have trouble breathing, and you feel like you’re gonna die.”

“There’s a word for that?”

“Yes, Bigby. That makes it a bit more comforting, I’m sure.” She chuckled as she rubbed Bigby’s shoulder.

“How do you know this, Snow...?” Bigby asked, not objecting to Snow’s comforting touches.

“It sounds hard to believe, but I’ve had a panic attack or two in my day.”

“Why?”

Snow shrugged her shoulders as she lowered her hand further down Bigby’s arm. “I don’t remember what some of them were about, but I’ve always felt really stupid afterwards. It always started because I tried not to cry over something so little like breaking a plate or something, but next thing I know, the whole world was ending for me.”

“Snow…” It was Bigby’s turn to lean in closer. He gently placed his hand over hers still sitting on his arm. His cigarette continued to burn in his left hand with an ash growing so heavy that it threatened to fall on the floor. Not that it mattered to Bigby. He rubbed her hand with small strokes, hoping that he wasn’t crossing a line. “I had no idea.”

“I mean, it’s nothing really,” Snow said, not breaking her gaze with Bigby. “Thought it helps to have someone to help you come down from it.”

“If you ever have another panic attack, Snow, you can trust me to help you now. Now that I know just how… scary it is to have to go through it alone…”

“Same goes, for you, big guy.” Snow smiled at him. It was moments like this that made Bigby’s heart flutter. The moments where Snow didn’t feel the need to put on her “Deputy Mayor” face. The moments where she could be… Snow. Things didn’t seem so messed up and complicated when he could share these moments with her. He only wished that it could happen a little more often.

Bigby was taken aback when Snow finally looked up at Bigby’s clock. “Listen Bigby, are you gonna be okay?”

He gripped Snow’s hand a little more tightly to savor her touch while he still could. “Yeah, I will, Snow.”

“You sure?”

“I promise, Snow. The worst of it seems to be over. I just probably need to get some sleep.”

“Sleep will help, for sure.” Snow lifted herself up from the chair, and moved it back to its original spot against the wall. Bigby found himself standing up, too, though he had no real reason to do so. “Speaking of which, I need to get to bed, myself.”

“Want me to see you out?” Bigby offered, even though there was no point in it considering Snow would only have to take two steps to get out of the apartment.

“Sure, thanks” Snow accepted with a small laugh.

“Listen, Snow, thanks for understanding and being so helpful tonight,” Bigby said as he awkwardly put his hand behind his head. “It means a lot.”

“No problem Bigby,” Snow said, looking up at him. “Listen, if you need anything, don’t hesitate to let me know.”

“Same goes for you,” Bigby said as he opened the door for Snow. “And, uh...thanks again, Snow.”

Snow only chuckled again as she walked out into the hallway. “Goodnight, Bigby.”

“Goodnight, Snow.”

Bigby watched after her until she walked out of sight. With a heavy sigh, he closed the door behind him and sat back down in his chair. After that, it wasn’t long before he was sound asleep.

He dreamed of a wolf lying in soft and pure snow.


End file.
